continually about us; they pretended to make a little fuss aboutallowing themselves to be caught, but they evidently did not mindit. I dropped a bit of bread and was stooping to pick it up; oneof them on seeing me move made for it and carried it off at once;the action was exactly that of one who was saying, "I don'tparticularly want it myself, but I'm not going to let you have it."Presently some cacciatori came with a poodle-dog. They explainedto us that though the poodle was "a truly hunting dog," he wouldnot touch the sparrows, which to do him justice he did not. Therewas a tame jay also, like the sparrows going about loose, but, likethem, aware when he was well off.

After dinner we went up to the castle, which I have now visited offand on for many years, and like always better and better each timeI go there. I know no place comparable to it in its own way. Iknow no place so pathetic, and yet so impressive, in its decay. Itis not a ruin--all ruins are frauds--it is only decayed. It is akind of Stokesay or Ightham Mote, better preserved than the first,and less furnished than the second, but on a grander scale thaneither, and set in incomparably finer surroundings. The pathtowards it passes the church, which has been spoiled. Outside thisthere are parts of old Roman columns from some temple, stuck in theground; inside are two statues called St. Peter and St. Paul, butevidently effigies of some magistrates in the Roman times. If thetraveller likes to continue the road past the church for three-quarters of a mile or so, he will get a fine view of the castle,and if he goes up to the little chapel of S. Quirico on the top ofthe hill on his right hand, he will look down upon it and uponArona. We will suppose, however, that he goes straight for thecastle itself; every moment as he approaches it, it will seem finerand finer; presently he will turn into a vineyard on his left, andat once begin to climb.

Passing under the old gateway--with its portcullis still ready tobe dropped, if need be, and with the iron plates that sheathe itpierced with bullets--as at S. Michele, the visitor enters at onceupon a terrace from which the two foregoing illustrations weretaken. I know nothing like this terrace. On a summer's afternoonand evening it is fully shaded, the sun being behind the castle.The lake and town below are still in sunlight. This, I think, isabout the best time to see the castle--say from six to eight on aJuly evening, or at any hour on a gray day.

Count Borromeo, to whom the castle belongs, allows it to be shown,and visitors are numerous. There is very little furniture insidethe rooms, and the little there is is decaying; the walls arecovered with pictures, mostly copies, and none of them of any greatmerit, but the rooms themselves are lovely. Here is a sketch ofthe one in which San Carlo Borromeo was born, but the one on thefloor beneath is better still. The whole of this part was builtabout the year 1350, and inside, where the weather has not reached,the stones are as sharp as if they had been cut yesterday. It wasin the great Sala of this castle that the rising against theAustrians in 1848 was planned; then there is the Sala di Giustizia,a fine room, with the remains of frescoes; the roof and the towershould also certainly be visited. All is solid and real, yet it islike an Italian opera in actual life. Lastly, there is thekitchen, where the wheel still remains in which a turnspit dog usedto be put to turn it and roast the meat; but this room is not shownto strangers.

The inner court of the castle is as beautiful as the outer one.Through the open door one catches glimpses of the terrace, and ofthe lake beyond it. I know Ightham, Hever, and Stokesay, bothinside and out, and I know the outside of Leeds; these are all ofthem exquisitely beautiful, but neither they nor any other suchplace that I have ever seen please me as much as the castle ofAngera.

We stayed talking to my old friend Signor Signorelli, the custodeof the castle, and his family, and sketching upon the terrace untilTonio came to tell us that his boat was at the quay waiting for us.Tonio is now about fourteen years old, but was only four when Ifirst had the pleasure of making his acquaintance. He is son toGiovanni, or as he is more commonly called, Giovannino, a boatmanof Arona. The boy is deservedly a great favourite, and is now apadrone with a boat of his own, from which he can get a goodliving.

He pulled us across the warm and sleepy lake, so far the mostbeautiful of all even the Italian lakes; as we neared Arona, andthe wall that runs along the lake became more plain, I could nothelp thinking of what Giovanni had told me about it some yearsbefore, when Tonio was lying curled up, a little mite of an object,in the bottom of the boat. He was extolling a certain family ofpeasants who live near the castle of Angera, as being models ofeverything a family ought to be. "There," he said, "the childrendo not speak at meal-times, the polenta is put upon the table, andeach takes exactly what is given him, even though one of thechildren thinks another has got a larger helping than he has, hewill eat his piece in silence. My children are not like that; ifMarietta thinks Irene has a bigger piece than she has, she willleave the room and go to the wall."

"What," I asked, "does she go to the wall for?"

"Oh! to cry; all the children go to the wall to cry."

I thought of Hezekiah. The wall is the crying place, playing,lounging place, and a great deal more, of all the houses in itsvicinity. It is the common drawing-room during the summer months;if the weather is too sultry, a boatman will leave his bed andfinish the night on his back upon its broad coping; we who live ina colder climate can hardly understand how great a blank in theexistence of these people the destruction of the wall would be.

We soon reached Arona, and in a few minutes were in that kind andhospitable house the Hotel d'Italia, than which no better hotel isto be found in Italy.

Arona is cooler than Angera. The proverb says, "He who would knowthe pains of the infernal regions, could go to Angera in the summerand to Arona in the winter." The neighbourhood is exquisite.Unless during the extreme heat of summer, it is the best place tostay at on the Lago Maggiore. The Monte Motterone is within thecompass of a single day's excursion; there is Orta, also, andVarallo easily accessible, and any number of drives and nearerexcursions whether by boat or carriage.

One day we made Tonio take us to Castelletto near Sesto Calende, tohear the bells. They ring the bells very beautifully at Vogogna,but, unless my recollection of a good many years ago fails me, atCastelletto they ring them better still.

At Vogogna, while we were getting our breakfast, we heard the bellsstrike up as follows, from a campanile on the side of the hill:-

[At this point in the book a music score is given]

They did this because a baby had just died, but we were told it wasnothing to what they would have done if it had been a grown-upperson.

At Castelletto we were disappointed; the bells did not ring thatmorning; we hinted at the possibility of paying a small fee to theringer and getting him to ring them, but were told that "la gente"would not at all approve of this, and so I was unable to take downthe chimes at Castelletto as I had intended to do. I may say thatI had a visit from some Italian friends a few years ago, and foundthem hardly less delighted with our English mode of ringing than Ihad been with theirs. It would be very nice if we could ring ourbells sometimes in the English and sometimes in the Italian way.When I say the Italian way--I should say that the custom ofringing, as above described, is not a common one--I have only heardit at Vogogna and Castelletto, though doubtless it prevailselsewhere.

We were told that the people take a good deal of pride in theirbells, and that one village will be jealous of another, andconsider itself more or less insulted if the bells of that othercan be heard more plainly than its own can be heard back again.There are two villages in the Brianza called Balzano and Cremella;the dispute between these grew so hot that each of them changedtheir bells three times, so as to try and be heard the loudest. Ibelieve an honourable compromise was in the end arrived at.

In other respects Castelletto is a quiet, sleepy little place. TheTicino flows through it just after leaving the lake. It is verywide here, and when flooded must carry down an enormous quantity ofwater. Barges go down it at all times, but the river is difficultof navigation and requires skilful pilots. These pilots are wellpaid, and Tonio seemed to have a great respect for them. The viewsof Monte Rosa are superb.

One of the great advantages of Arona, as of Mendrisio, is that itcommands such a number of other places. There is rail to Milan,and again to Novara, and each station on the way is a sub-centre;there are also the steamers on the lake, and there is not a villageat which they stop which will not repay examination, and which isnot in its turn a sub-centre. In England I have found byexperience that there is nothing for it but to examine everyvillage and town within easy railway distance; no books are of muchuse: one never knows that something good is not going to be sprungupon one, and few indeed are the places where there is no oldpublic-house, or overhanging cottage, or farmhouse and barn, or bitof De Hooghe-like entry which, if one had two or three lives, onewould not willingly leave unpainted. It is just the same in NorthItaly; there is not a village which can be passed over with a lightheart.

CHAPTER XXIV--Locarno

We were attracted to Locarno by the approaching fetes in honour ofthe fourth centenary of the apparition of the Virgin Mary to FraBartolomeo da Ivrea, who founded the sanctuary in consequence.

The programme announced that the festivities would begin on,Saturday, at 3.30 P.M., with the carrying of the sacred image(sacro simulacro) of the Virgin from the Madonna del Sasso to thecollegiate church of S. Antonio. There would then be a benedictionand celebration of the holy communion. At eight o'clock there wereto be illuminations, fireworks, balloons, &c., at the sanctuary andthe adjacent premises.

On Sunday at half-past nine there was to be mass at the church ofS. Antonio, with a homily by Monsignor Paolo Angelo Ballerini,Patriarch of Alexandria in partibus, and blessing of the crown sentby Pope Leo XIII for the occasion. S. Antonio is the church theroof of which fell in during service one Sunday in 1865, throughthe weight of the snow, killing sixty people. At half-past three agrand procession would convey the Holy Image to a pretty templewhich had been erected in the market-place. The image was then tobe crowned by the Patriarch, carried round the town in procession,and returned to the church of S. Antonio. At eight o'clock therewere to be fireworks near the port; a grand illumination of atriumphal arch, an illumination of the sanctuary and chapels withBengal lights, and an artificial apparition of the Madonna(Apparizione artificiale della Beata Vergine col Bambino) above thechurch upon the Sacro Monte. Next day the Holy Image was to becarried back from the church of S. Antonio to its normal resting-place at the sanctuary. We wanted to see all this, but it was theartificial apparition of the Madonna that most attracted us.

Locarno is, as every one knows, a beautiful town. Both the HotelLocarno and the Hotel della Corona are good, but the latter is, Ibelieve, the cheaper. At the castello there is a fresco of theMadonna, ascribed, I should think rightly, to Bernardino Luini, andat the cemetery outside the town there are some old frescoes of thesecond half of the fifteenth century, in a ruinous state, butinteresting. If I remember rightly there are several dates onthem, averaging 1475-80. They might easily have been done by thesame man who did the frescoes at Mesocco, but I prefer these last.The great feature, however, of Locarno is the Sacro Monte whichrises above it. From the wooden bridge which crosses the streamjust before entering upon the sacred precincts, the church andchapels and road arrange themselves as on p. 269.

On the way up, keeping to the steeper and abrupter route, onecatches sight of the monks' garden--a little paradise with vines,beehives, onions, lettuces, cabbages, marigolds to colour therisotto with, and a little plot of great luxuriant tobacco plants.Amongst the foliage may be now and again seen the burly figure of amonk with a straw hat on. The best view of the sanctuary fromabove is the one which I give on p. 270.

The church itself is not remarkable, but it contains the bestcollection of votive pictures that I know in any church, unless theone at Oropa be excepted; there is also a modern Italian "Returnfrom the Cross" by Ciseri, which is very much admired, but withwhich I have myself no sympathy whatever. It is an Academypicture.

The cloister looking over the lake is very beautiful. In thelittle court down below--which also is of great beauty--there is achapel containing a representation of the Last Supper in life-sizedcoloured statues as at Varallo, which has a good deal of feeling,and a fresco (?) behind it which ought to be examined, but thechapel is so dark that this is easier said than done. There isalso a fresco down below in the chapel where the founder of thesanctuary is buried which should not be passed over. It is dated1522, and is Luinesque in character. When I was last there,however, it was hardly possible to see anything, for everything wasbeing turned topsy-turvy by the arrangements which were being madefor the approaching fetes. These were very gay and pretty; theymust have cost a great deal of money, and I was told that themunicipality in its collective capacity was thought mean, becauseit had refused to contribute more than 100 francs, or 4 poundssterling. It does seem rather a small sum certainly.

On the afternoon of Friday the 13th of August the PatriarchMonsignor Ballerini was to arrive by the three o'clock boat, andthere was a crowd to welcome him. The music of Locarno was on thequay playing a selection, not from "Madame Angot" itself, but fromsomething very like it--light, gay, sparkling opera bouffe--towelcome him. I felt as I had done when I found the matchbox in thesanctuary bedroom at Graglia: not that I minded it myself, but asbeing a little unhappy lest the Bishop might not quite like it.

I do not see how we could welcome a bishop--we will say to aconfirmation--with a band of music at all. Fancy a brass band ofsome twenty or thirty ranged round the landing stage at Gravesendto welcome the Bishop of London, and fancy their playing we willsay "The two Obadiahs," or that horrid song about the swing going alittle bit higher! The Bishop would be very much offended. Hewould not go a musical inch beyond the march in "Le Prophete," nor,willingly, beyond the march in "Athalie." Monsignor Ballerini,however, never turned a hair; he bowed repeatedly to all round him,and drove off in a carriage and pair, apparently much pleased withhis reception. We Protestants do not understand, nor take any verygreat pains to understand, the Church of Rome. If we did, weshould find it to be in many respects as much in advance of us asit is behind us in others.

One thing made an impression upon me which haunted me all the time.On every important space there were advertisements of theprogramme, the substance of which I have already given. Buthardly, if at all less noticeable, were two others which rose upirrepressible upon every prominent space, searching all places witha subtle penetrative power against which precautions werepowerless. These advertisements were not in Italian but inEnglish, nevertheless they were neither of them English--but both,I believe, American. The one was that of the Richmond Gemcigarette, with the large illustration representing a man in a hatsmoking, so familiar to us here in London. The other was that ofWheeler & Wilson's sewing machines.

As the Patriarch drove off in the carriage the man in the hatsmoking the Richmond Gem cigarette leered at him, and the womanworking Wheeler & Wilson's sewing machine sewed at him. During theilluminations the unwonted light threw its glare upon the effigiesof saints and angels, but it illumined also the man in the blackfelt hat and the woman with the sewing machine; even during theartificial apparition of the Virgin Mary herself upon the hillbehind the town, the more they let off fireworks the more clearlythe man in the hat came out upon the walls round the market-place,and the bland imperturbable woman working at her sewing machine. Ithought to myself that when the man with the hat appeared in thepiazza the Madonna would ere long cease to appear on the hill.

Later on, passing through the town alone, when the people had goneto rest, I saw many of them lying on the pavement under the archesfast asleep. A brilliant moon illuminated the market-place; therewas a pleasant sound of falling water from the fountain; the lakewas bathed in splendour, save where it took the reflection of themountains--so peaceful and quiet was the night that there washardly a rustle in the leaves of the aspens. But whether inmoonlight or in shadow, the busy persistent vibrations that rise inAnglo-Saxon brains were radiating from every wall, and the man inthe black felt hat and the bland lady with the sewing machine werethere--lying in wait, as a cat over a mouse's hole, to insinuatethemselves into the hearts of the people so soon as they shouldwake.

Great numbers came to the festivities. There were special trainsfrom Biasca and all intermediate stations, and special boats. Andthe ugly flat-nosed people came from the Val Verzasca, and thebeautiful people came from the Val Onsernone and the Val Maggia,and I saw Anna, the curate's housekeeper, from Mesocco, and the oldfresco painter who told me he should like to pay me a visit, andsuggested five o'clock in the morning as the most appropriate andconvenient time. The great procession contained seven or eighthundred people. From the balcony of the Hotel della Corona Icounted as well as I could and obtained the following result:-

Women 120Men with white shirts and red capes 85Men with white shirts and no capes (?)The music from Intra 30Men with white shirts and blue capes 25Men with white shirts and no capes 25Men with white shirts and green capes 12Men with white shirts and no capes 36The music of Locarno 30Girls in blue, pink, white and yellow, red, white 50Choristers 3Monks 6Priests 66Canons 12His Excellency Paolo Angelo Ballerini, Patriarch of Alexandria in Egypt, escorted by the firemen, and his private cortege of about 20 25Government ushers (?)The Grand Council, escorted by 22 soldiers and 6 policemen 28The clergy without orders 30 583

In the evening, there, sure enough, the apparition of the BlessedVirgin was. The church of the Madonna was unilluminated and all indarkness, when on a sudden it sprang out into a blaze, and a greattransparency of the Virgin and child was lit up from behind. Thenthe people said, "Oh bel!"

I was myself a little disappointed. It was not a good apparition,and I think the effect would have been better if it had beencarried up by a small balloon into the sky. It might easily havebeen arranged so that the light behind the transparency should dieout before the apparition must fall again, and also that the lightinside the transparency should not be reflected upon the balloonthat lifted it; the whole, therefore, would appear to rise from itsown inherent buoyancy. I am confident it would have been arrangedin this way if the thing had been in the hands of the CrystalPalace people.

There is a fine old basilicate church dedicated to S. Vittore atthe north end of Locarno. It is the mother church of these partsand dates from the eighth or ninth century. The frescoes insidethe apse were once fine, but have been repainted and spoiled. Thetower is much later, but is impressive. It was begun in 1524 andleft incomplete in 1527, probably owing to the high price ofprovisions which is commemorated in the following words written ona stone at the top of the tower inside

I suppose these were something like famine prices; at any rate, aworkman wrote this upon the tower and the tower stopped.

CHAPTER XXV--Fusio

We left Locarno by the conveyance which leaves every day at fouro'clock for Bignasco, a ride of about four hours. The PonteBrolla, a couple of miles out of Locarno, is remarkable, and theroad is throughout (as a matter of course) good. I sat next an oldpriest, an excellent kindly man, who talked freely with me, andscolded me roundly for being a Protestant more than once.

He seemed much surprised when I discarded reason as the foundationof our belief. He had made up his mind that all Protestants basedtheir convictions upon reason, and was not prepared to hear me goheartily with him in declaring the foundation of any durable systemto lie in faith. When, however, it came to requiring me to havefaith in what seemed good to him and his friends, rather than to meand mine, we did not agree so well. He then began to shake deathat me; I met him with a reflection that I have never seen in print,though it is so obvious that it must have occurred to each one ofmy readers. I said that every man is an immortal to himself: heonly dies as far as others are concerned; to himself he cannot, byany conceivable possibility, do so. For how can he know that he isdead until he IS dead? And when he IS dead, how can he know thathe is dead? If he does, it is an abuse of terms to say that he isdead. A man can know no more about the end of his life than he didabout the beginning. The most horrible and loathed death stillresolves itself into being badly frightened, and not a little hurttowards the end of one's life, but it can never come to beingunbearably hurt for long together. Besides, we are at all times,even during life, dead and dying to by far the greater part of ourpast selves. What we call dying is only dying to the balance, orresiduum. This made the priest angry. He folded his arms andsaid, "Basta, basta," nor did he speak to me again. It is becauseI noticed the effect it produced upon my fellow-passenger that Iintroduce it here.

Bignasco is at the confluence of the two main branches of theMaggia. The greater part of the river comes down from the glacierof Basodino, which cannot be seen from Bignasco; I know nothing ofthis valley beyond having seen the glacier from the top of the passbetween Fusio and Dalpe. The smaller half of the river comes downfrom Fusio, the valley of Sambucco, and the lake of Naret. Theaccommodation at Bignasco is quite enough for a bachelor; thepeople are good, but the inn is homely. From Bignasco the roadascends rapidly to Peccia, a village which has suffered terriblyfrom inundations, and from Peccia it ascends more rapidly still--Fusio being reached in about three hours from Bignasco. There isan excellent inn at Fusio kept by Signor Dazio, to whose energy theadmirable mountain road from Peccia is mainly due. On the rightjust before he crosses the bridge, the traveller will note thefresco of the Crucifixion, which I have mentioned at page 140.

Fusio is over 4200 feet above the level of the sea. I do not knowwherein its peculiar charm lies, but it is the best of all thevillages of a kindred character that I know. Below is a sketch ofit as it appears from the cemetery.

There is another good view from behind the village; at sunset thissecond view becomes remarkably fine. The houses are in deep coolshadow, but the mountains behind take the evening sun, and aresometimes of an incredible splendour. It is fine to watch theshadows creeping up them, and the colour that remains growingricher and richer until the whole is extinguished; this view,however, I am unable to give.

I hold Signor Dazio of Fusio so much as one of my most particularand valued friends, and I have such special affection for Fusioitself, that the reader must bear in mind that he is reading anaccount given by a partial witness. Nevertheless, all privatepreferences apart, I think he will find Fusio a hard place to beat.At the end of June and in July the flowers are at their best, andthey are more varied and beautiful than anywhere else I know. Atthe very end of July and the beginning of August the people cuttheir hay, and then for a while the glory of the place is gone, butby the end of August or the beginning of September the grass hasgrown long enough to re-cover the slopes with a velvety verdure,and though the flowers are shorn, yet so they are from other placesalso.

There are many walks in the neighbourhood for those who do not mindmountain paths. The most beautiful of them all is to the valley ofSambucco, the upper end which is not more than half-an-hour fromSignor Dazio's hotel. For some time one keeps to the path throughthe wooded gorge, and with the river foaming far below; in earlymorning while this path is in shade, or, again, after sunset, it isone of the most beautiful of its kind that I know. After a while agate is reached, and an open upland valley is entered upon--evidently an old lake filled up, and neither very broad nor verylong, but grassed all over, and with the river winding through itlike an English brook. This is the valley of Sambucco. There aretwo collections of stalle for the cattle, or monti--one at thenearer end and the other at the farther.

The floor of the valley can hardly be less than 5000 feet above thesea. I shall never forget the pleasure with which I first cameupon it. I had long wanted an ideal upland valley; as a generalrule high valleys are too narrow, and have little or no levelground. If they have any at all there often is too much as withthe one where Andermatt and Hospenthal are--which would in somerespects do very well--and too much cultivated, and do not showtheir height. An upland valley should first of all be in anItalian-speaking country; then it should have a smooth, grassy,perfectly level floor of say neither much more nor less than ahundred and fifty yards in breadth and half-a-mile in length. Asmall river should go babbling through it with occasional smoothparts, so as to take the reflections of the surrounding mountains.It should have three or four fine larches or pines scattered aboutit here and there, but not more. It should be completely land-locked, and there should be nothing in the way of human handiworksave a few chalets, or a small chapel and a bridge, but no tilledland whatever. Here oven in summer the evening air will be crisp,and the dew will form as soon as the sun goes off; but themountains at one end of it will keep the last rays of the sun. Itis then the valley is at its best, especially if the goats andcattle are coming together to be milked.

The valley of Sambucco has all this and a great deal more, to saynothing of the fact that there are excellent trout in it. I haveshown it to friends at different times, and they have all agreedwith me that for a valley neither too high nor too low, nor too bignor too little, the valley of Sambucco is one of the best that anyof us know of--I mean to look at and enjoy, for I suppose asregards painting it is hopeless. I think it can be well renderedby the following piece of music as by anything else:- {33}

[At this point in the book a music score is given]

One day Signor Dazio brought us in a chamois foot. He explained tous that chamois were now in season, but that even when they werenot, they were sometimes to be had, inasmuch as they occasionallyfell from the rocks and got killed. As we looked at it we couldnot help reflecting that, wonderful as the provisions of animal andvegetable organisms often are, the marvels of adaptation aresometimes almost exceeded by the feats which an animal will performwith a very simple and even clumsy instrument if it knows how touse it. A chamois foot is a smooth and slippery thing, such as norespectable bootmaker would dream of offering to a mountaineer:there is not a nail in it, nor even an apology for a nail; thesurefootedness of its owner is an assumption only--a piece of faithor impudence which fulfils itself. If some other animal were toinduce the chamois to believe that it should at the least have feetwith suckers to them, like a fly, before venturing in suchbreakneck places, or if by any means it could get to know how bad afoot it really has, there would soon be no more chamois. Thechamois continues to exist through its absolute refusal to hearreason upon the matter. But the whole question is one of extremeintricacy; all we know is that some animals and plants, like somemen, devote great pains to the perfection of the mechanism withwhich they wish to work, while others rather scorn appliances, andconcentrate their attention upon the skilful use of whatever theyhappen to have. I think, however, that in the clumsiness of thechamois foot must lie the explanation of the fact that sometimeswhen chamois are out of season, they do nevertheless actuallytumble off the rocks and get killed; being killed, of course it isonly natural that they should sometimes be found, and if found, beeaten; but they are not good for much.

After a day or two's stay in this delightful place, we left at sixo'clock one brilliant morning in September for Dalpe and Faido,accompanied by the excellent Signor Guglielmoni as guide. Thereare two main passes from Fusio into the Val Leventina--the one bythe Sassello Grande to Nante and Airolo, and the other by the Alpedi Campolungo to Dalpe. Neither should be attempted by strangerswithout a guide, though neither of them presents the smallestdifficulty. There is a third and longer pass by the Lago di Naretto Bedretto, but I have never been over this. The other two areboth good; on the whole, however, I think I prefer the second.Signor Guglielmoni led us over the freshest grassy slopesconceivable--slopes that four or five weeks earlier had been gaywith tiger and Turk's-cap lilies, and the flaunting arnica, andevery flower that likes mountain company. After a three hours'walk we reached the top of the pass, from whence on the one handone can see the Basodino glacier, and on the other the greatRheinwald glaciers above Olivone. Other small glaciers show invalleys near Biasca which I know nothing about, and which I imagineto be almost a terra incognita, except to the inhabitants of suchvillages as Malvaglia in the Val Blenio.

When near the top of the pass we heard the whistle of a marmot.Guglielmoni told us he had a tame one once which was very fond ofhim. It slept all the winter, but turned round once a fortnight toavoid lying too long upon one side. When it woke up from itswinter sleep it no longer recognised him, but bit him savagelyright through the finger; by and by its recollection returned toit, and it apologised.

From the summit, which is about 7600 feet above the sea, the pathdescends over the roughest ground that is to be found on the wholeroute. Here there are good specimens of asbestos to be picked upabundantly, and the rocks are full of garnets; after about six orseven hundred feet the Alpe di Campolungo is reached, and thisagain is an especially favourite place with me. It is an old lakefilled up, surrounded by peaks and precipices where some snow restsall the year round, and traversed by a stream. Here, just as wehad done lunching, we were joined by a family of knife-grinders,who were also crossing from the Val Maggia to the Val Leventina.We had eaten all we had with us except our bread; this Guglielmonigave to one of the boys, who seemed as much pleased with it as ifit had been cake. Then after taking a look at the Lago diTremorgio, a beautiful lake some hundreds of feet below, we went onto the Alpe di Cadonighino where our guide left us.

At this point pines begin, and soon the path enters them; after awhile we catch sight of Prato, and eventually come down upon Dalpe.In another hour and a quarter Faido is reached. The descent toFaido from the summit of the pass is much greater than the ascentfrom Fusio, for Faido is not more than 2300 feet above the sea,whereas, as I have said, Fusio is over 4200 feet. The descent fromthe top of the pass to Faido is about 5300 feet, while to Fusio itis only 3400. The reader, therefore, will see that he had bettergo from Fusio to Faido, and not vice versa, unless he is a goodwalker.

From Faido we returned home. We looked at nothing between the topof the St. Gothard Pass and Boulogne, nor did we again begin totake any interest in life till we saw the science-ridden, art-ridden, culture-ridden, afternoon-tea-ridden cliffs of Old Englandrise upon the horizon.

APPENDIX A--Wednesbury Cocking (See p. 55)

I know nothing of the date of this remarkable ballad, or the sourcefrom which it comes. I have heard one who should know say, thatwhen he was a boy at Shrewsbury school it was done into Greekhexameters, the lines (with a various reading in them):

"The colliers and nailers left work,And all to old Scroggins' went jogging;"

being translated:

[Greek text]

I have been at some pains to find out more about this translation,but have failed to do so. The ballad itself is as follows:

At Wednesbury there was a cocking,A match between Newton and Scroggins;The colliers and nailers left work,And all to old Spittle's went jogging.To see this noble sport,Many noblemen resorted;And though they'd but little money,Yet that little they freely sported.

There was Jeffery and Colborn from Hampton,And Dusty from Bilston was there;Flummery he came from Darlaston,And he was as rude as a bear.There was old Will from Walsall,And Smacker from Westbromwich come;Blind Robin he came from Rowley,And staggering he went home.

Ralph Moody came hobbling along,As though he some cripple was mocking,To join in the blackguard throng,That met at Wednesbury cocking.He borrowed a trifle of Doll,To back old Taverner's grey;He laid fourpence-halfpenny to fourpence,He lost and went broken away.

But soon he returned to the pit,For he'd borrowed a trifle more money,And ventured another large bet,Along with blobbermouth Coney.When Coney demanded his money,As is usual on all such occasions,He cried, -- thee, if thee don't hold thy rattle,I'll pay thee as Paul paid the Ephasians.

The morning's sport being over,Old Spittle a dinner proclaimed,Each man he should dine for a groat,If he grumbled he ought to be --,For there was plenty of beef,But Spittle he swore by his troth,That never a man should dineTill he ate his noggin of broth.

The beef it was old and tough,Off a bull that was baited to death,Barney Hyde got a lump in his throat,That had like to have stopped his breath,The company all fell into confusion,At seeing poor Barney Hyde choke;So they took him into the kitchen,And held him over the smoke.

They held him so close to the fire,He frizzled just like a beef-steak,They then threw him down on the floor,Which had like to have broken his neck.One gave him a kick on the stomach,Another a kick on the brow,His wife said, Throw him into the stable,And he'll be better just now.

Then they all returned to the pit,And the fighting went forward again;Six battles were fought on each side,And the next was to decide the main.For they were two famous cocksAs ever this country bred,Scroggins's a dark-winged black,And Newton's a shift-winged red.

The conflict was hard on both sides,Till Brassy's black-winged was choked;The colliers were tarnationly vexed,And the nailers were sorely provoked.Peter Stevens he swore a great oath,That Scroggins had played his cock foul;Scroggins gave him a kick on the head,And cried, Yea,--thy soul.

The company then fell in discord,A bold, bold fight did ensue;-, -, and bite was the word,Till the Walsall men all were subdued.Ralph Moody bit off a man's nose,And wished that he could have him slain,So they trampled both cocks to death,And they made a draw of the main.

The cock-pit was near to the church,An ornament unto the town;On one side an old coal pit,The other well gorsed around.Peter Hadley peeped through the gorse,In order to see them fight;Spittle jobbed out his eye with a fork,And said, -- thee, it served thee right.

Some people may think this strange,Who Wednesbury never knew;But those who have ever been there,Will not have the least doubt it's true;For they are as savage by nature,And guilty of deeds the most shocking;Jack Baker whacked his own father,And thus ended Wednesbury cocking.

APPENDIX B--Reforms Instituted at S. Michele in the year 1478 (Seep. 105)

The palmiest days of the sanctuary were during the time thatRodolfo di Montebello or Mombello was abbot--that is to say,roughly, between the years 1325-60. "His rectorate," saysClaretta, "was the golden age of the Abbey of La Chiusa, whichreaped the glory acquired by its head in the difficult negotiationsentrusted to him by his princes. But after his death, either lotor intrigue caused the election to fall upon those who prepared theruin of one of the most ancient and illustrious monasteries inPiedmont." {34}

By the last quarter of the fifteenth century things got so bad thata commission of inquiry was held under one Giovanni di Varax in theyear 1478. The following extracts from the ordinances then mademay not be unwelcome to the reader. The document from which theyare taken is to be found, pp. 322-336 of Claretta's work. The textis evidently in many places corrupt or misprinted, and there areseveral words which I have looked for in vain in all thedictionaries--Latin, Italian, and French--in the reading-room ofthe British Museum which seemed in the least likely to containthem. I should say that for this translation, I have availedmyself, in part, of the assistance of a well-known mediaevalscholar, the Rev. Ponsonby A. Lyons, but he is in no wayresponsible for the translation as a whole.

After a preamble, stating the names of the commissioners, with theobjects of the commission and the circumstances under which it hadbeen called together, the following orders were unanimously agreedupon, to wit:-

"Firstly, That repairs urgently required to prevent the buildingfrom falling into a ruinous state (as shown by the ocular testimonyof the commissioners, assisted by competent advisers whom theyinstructed to survey the fabric), be paid for by a true tithe, tobe rendered by all priors, provosts, and agents directly subject tothe monastery. This tithe is to be placed in the hands of twomerchants to be chosen by the bishop commendatory, and a sum is tobe taken from it for the restoration of the fountain which playedformerly in the monastery. The proctors who collect the tithes areto be instructed by the abbot and commendatory not to press harshlyupon the contributories by way of expense and labour; and the moneywhen collected is, as already said, to be placed in the hands oftwo suitable merchants, clients of the said monastery, who shallhold it on trust to pay it for the above-named purposes, as thereverends the commendatory and chamberlain and treasurer of thesaid monastery shall direct. In the absence of one of these threethe order of the other two shall be sufficient.

"Item, it is ordered that the mandes, {35} or customary alms, bemade daily to the value of what would suffice for the support offour monks.

"Item, that the offices in the gift of the monastery be conferredby the said reverend the lord commendatory, and that those whichhave been hitherto at the personal disposition of the abbot bereserved for the pleasure of the Apostolic See. Item, that no onedo beg a benefice without reasonable cause and consonancy ofjustice. Item, that those who have had books, privileges, or otherdocuments belonging to the monastery do restore them to thetreasury within three months from the publication of thesepresents, under pain of excommunication. Item, that no onehenceforth take privileges or other documents from the monasterywithout a deposit of caution money, or taking oath to return thesame within three months, under like pain of excommunication.Item, that no laymen do enter the treasury of the monastery withoutthe consent of the prior of cloister, {36} nor without the presenceof those who hold the keys of the treasury, or of three monks, andthat those who hold the keys do not deliver them to laymen. Item,it is ordered that the places subject to the said monastery bevisited every five years by persons in holy orders, and byseculars; and that, in like manner, every five years a generalchapter be held, but this period may be extended or shortened forreasonable cause, and the proctors-general are to be bound in eachchapter to bring their procurations, and at some chapter each monkis to bring the account of the fines and all other rightsappertaining to his benefice, drawn up by a notary in public form,and undersigned by him, that they may be kept in the treasury, andthis under pain of suspension. Item, that henceforth neither theoffice of prior nor any other benefice be conferred upon laymen.The lord abbot is in future to be charged with the expense of allnew buildings that are erected within the precincts of themonastery. He is also to give four pittances or suppers to theconvent during infirmary time, and six pints of wine according tothe custom. {37} Furthermore, he is to keep beds in the monasteryfor the use of guests, and other monks shall return these beds tothe chamberlain on the departure of the guests, and it shall be thechamberlain's business to attend to this matter. Item, delinquentmonks are to be punished within the monastery and not without it.Item, the monks shall not presume to give an order for more thantwo days' board at the expense of the monastery, in the inns at S.Ambrogio, during each week, and they shall not give orders forfifteen days unless they have relations on a journey staying withthem, or nobles, or persons above suspicion, and the same beunderstood as applying to officials and cloistered persons. {38}

"Item, within twelve months from date the monks are to be at theexpense of building an almshouse in S. Ambrogio, where one or twoof the oldest and most respected among them are to reside, and havetheir portions there, and receive those who are in religion. Item,no monk is to wear his hair longer than two fingers broad. {39}Item, no hounds are to be kept in the monastery for hunting, norany dogs save watch-dogs. Persons in religion who come to themonastery are to be entertained there for two days, during whichtime the cellarer is to give them bread and wine, and the pittancer{40} pittance.

"Item, women of bad character, and indeed all women, are forbiddenthe monk's apartments without the prior's license, except in timesof indulgence, or such as are noble or above suspicion. Not evenare the women from San Pietro, or any suspected women, to beadmitted without the prior's permission.

"The monks are to be careful how they hold converse with suspectedwomen, and are not to be found in the houses of such persons, orthey will be punished. Item, the epistle and gospel at high massare to be said by the monks in church, and in Lent the epistle isto be said by one monk or sub-deacon.

"Item, two candelabra are to be kept above the altar when mass isbeing said, and the lord abbot is to provide the necessary candles.

"Any one absent from morning or evening mass is to be punished bythe prior, if his absence arises from negligence.

"The choir, and the monks residing in the monastery, are to beprovided with books and a convenient breviary {41} . . . accordingto ancient custom and statute, nor can those things be sold whichare necessary or useful to the convent.

* * *

"Item, all the religious who are admitted and enter the monasteryand religion, shall bring one alb and one amice, to be deliveredinto the hands of the treasurer and preserved by him for the use ofthe church.

* * *

"The treasurer is to have the books that are in daily use in thechoir re-bound, and to see that the capes which are unsewn, and allthe ecclesiastical vestments under his care are kept in properrepair. He is to have the custody of the plate belonging to themonastery, and to hold a key of the treasury. He is to furnish ineach year an inventory of the property of which he has charge, andto hand the same over to the lord abbot. He is to make one commonpittance {42} of bread and wine on the day of the feast of St.Nicholas in December, according to custom; and if it happens to befound necessary to make a chest to hold charters, &c., the personwhose business it shall be to make this shall be bound to make it.

"As regards the office of almoner, the almoner shall each day givealms in the monastery to the faithful poor--to wit, barley bread tothe value of twopence current money, and on Holy Thursday he shallmake an alms of threepence {43} to all comers, and shall give thema plate of beans and a drink of wine. Item, he is to make almsfour times a year--that is to say, on Christmas Day, onQuinquagesima Sunday, and at the feasts of Pentecost and Easter;and he is to give to every man a small loaf of barley and a grilledpork chop, {44} the third of a pound in weight. Item, he shallmake a pittance to the convent on the vigil of St. Martin of bread,wine, and mincemeat dumplings, {45}--that is to say, for eachperson two loaves and two . . . {46} of wine and some leeks,--andhe is to lay out sixty shillings (?) in fish and seasoning, and allthe servants are to have a ration of dumplings; and in the morninghe is to give them a dumpling cooked in oil, and a quarter of aloaf, and some wine. Item, he shall give another pittance on thefeast of St. James--to wit, a good sheep and some cabbages {47}with seasoning.

"Item, during infirmary time he must provide four meat suppers andtwo pints {48} (?) of wine, and a pittance of mincemeat dumplingsduring the rogation days, as do the sacristan and the butler. Heis also to give each monk one bundle of straw in every year, and tokeep a servant who shall bring water from the spring for theservice of the mass and for holy water, and light the fire for thebarber, and wait at table, and do all else that is reasonable andusual; and the said almoner shall also keep a towel in the churchfor drying the hands, and he shall make preparation for the mandeson Holy Thursday, both in the monastery and in the cloister.Futhermore, he must keep beds in the hospital of S. Ambrogio, andkeep the said hospital in such condition that Christ's poor may bereceived there in orderly and godly fashion; he must also maintainthe chapel of St. Nicholas, and keep the chapel of St. James in astate of repair, and another part of the building contiguous to thechapel. Item, it shall devolve upon the chamberlain to pay yearlyto each of the monks of the said monastery of St. Martin who saymass, except those of them who hold office, the sum of six florinsand six groats, {49} and to the treasurer, precentor, and surveyor,{50} to each one of them the same sum for their clothing, and toeach of the young monks who do not say mass four florins and sixgroats. And in every year he is to do one O {51} for the greaterpriorate {52} during Advent. Those who have benefices and who areresident within the monastery, but whose benefice does not amountto the value of their clothes, are to receive their clothesaccording to the existing custom.

"Item, the pittancer shall give a pittance of cheese and eggs toeach of the monks on every day from the feast of Easter to thefeast of the Holy Cross in September--to wit, three quarters of apound of cheese; but when there is a principal processional duplexfeast, each monk is to have a pound of cheese per diem, except onfast days, when he is to have half a pound only. Also on days whenthere is a principal or processional feast, each one of them,including the hebdomadary, is to have five eggs. Also, from thefeast of Easter to the octave of St. John the Baptist the pittanceris to serve out old cheese, and new cheese from the octave of St.John the Baptist to the feast of St. Michael. From the feast ofSt. Michael to Quinquagesima the cheese is to be of medium quality.From the least of the Holy Cross in September until Lent thepittancer must serve out to each monk three quarters of a pound ofcheese, if it is a feast of twelve lessons, and if it is a feast ofthree lessons, whether a week-day or a vigil, the pittancer is togive each monk but half a pound of cheese. He is also to give allthe monks during Advent nine pounds of wax extra allowance, and itis not proper that the pittancer should weigh out cheese for anyone on a Friday unless it be a principal processional or duplexfeast, or a principal octave. It is also proper, seeing there isno fast from the feast of Christmas to the octave of the Epiphany,that every man should have his three quarters of a pound of cheeseper diem. Also, on Christmas and Easter days the pittancer shallprovide five dumplings per monk per diem, and one plate of sausagemeat, {53} and he shall also give to each of the servants on thesaid two days five dumplings for each several day; and the saidpittancer on Christmas Day and on the day of St. John the Baptistshall make a relish, {54} or seasoning, and give to each monk onegood glass thereof, that is to say, the fourth part of one {55} foreach monk--to wit, on the first, second, and third day of the feastof the Nativity, the Circumcision, the Epiphany, and thePurification of the Blessed Virgin; and the pittancer is to putspice in the said relish, and the cellarer is to provide wine andhoney, and during infirmary time those who are being bled are toreceive no pittance from the pittancer. Further, from the feast ofEaster to that of the Cross of September, there is no fast excepton the prescribed vigils; each monk, therefore, should always havethree quarters of a pound of cheese after celebration on a week-dayuntil the above-named day. Further, the pittancer is to providefor three mandes in each week during the whole year, exceptingLent, and for each mande he is to find three pounds of cheese.From the feast of St. Michael to that of St. Andrew he is toprovide for an additional mande in each week. Item, he is to paythe prior of the cloister six florins for his fine {56} . . . andthree florins to the . . . . {57} and he should also give five eggsper diem to the hebdomadary of the high altar, except in Lent.Further, he is to give to the woodman, the baker, the keeper of thechurch, the servants of the Infirmary, the servant at theEleemosynary, and the stableman, to each of them one florin inevery year. Item, any monks who leave the monastery before vesperswhen it is not a fast, shall lose one quarter of a pound of cheeseeven though they return to the monastery after vespers but if it isa fast day, they are to lose nothing. Item, the pittancer is toserve out mashed beans to the servants of the convent during Lentas well as to those who are in religion, and at this season he isto provide the prior of the cloister and the hebdomadary withbruised cicerate; {58} but if any one of the same is hebdomadary,he is only to receive one portion. If there are two celebratinghigh mass at the high altar, each of them is to receive one plateof the said bruised cicerate.

"As regards the office of cantor, the cantor is to intone theantiphon 'ad benedictus ad magnificat' at terce, {59} and at allother services, and he is himself to intone the antiphons orprovide a substitute who can intone them; and he is to intone thepsalms according to custom. Also if there is any cloistered personwho has begun his week of being hebdomadary, and falls into suchsickness that he cannot celebrate the same, the cantor is to say orcelebrate three masses. The cantor is to lead all the monks of thechoir at matins, high mass, vespers, and on all other occasions.On days when there is a processional duplex feast, he is to writedown the order of the office; that is to say, those who are to saythe invitatory, {60} the lessons, the epistle of the gospel {61}and those who are to wear copes at high mass and at vespers. Thecantor must sing the processional hymns which are sung on enteringthe church, but he is exempt from taking his turn of beinghebdomadary by reason of his intoning the offices; and he is towrite down the names of those who celebrate low masses and of thosewho get them said by proxy; and he is to report these last to theprior that they may be punished. The cantor or his delegate is toread in the refectory during meal times and during infirmary time,and he who reads in the refectory is to have a quart [?] of bread,as also are the two junior monks who wait at table. The cantor isto instruct the boys in the singing of the office and in morals,and is to receive their portions of bread, wine and pittance, andbesides all this he is to receive one florin for each of them, andhe is to keep them decently; and the prior is to certify himselfupon this matter, and to see to it that he victuals them properlyand gives them their food.

"The sacristan is to provide all the lights of the church whetheroil or wax, and he is to give out small candles to the hebdomadary,and to keep the eight lamps that burn both night and day suppliedwith oil. He is to keep the lamps in repair and to buy new ones ifthe old are broken, and he is to provide the incense. He is tomaintain the covered chapel of St. Nicholas, and the whole churchexcept the portico of the same; and the lord abbot is to providesound timber for doors and other necessaries. He is to keep theframes {62} of the bells in repair, and also the ropes for thesame, and during Lent he is to provide two pittances of eels to thevalue of eighteen groats for each pittance, and one other pittanceof dumplings and seasoning during rogation time, to wit, fivedumplings cooked in oil for each person, and one quart of bread andwine, and all the house domestics and serving men of the conventwho may be present are to have the same. At this time all themonks are to have one quarter of a pound of cheese from thesacristan. And the said sacristan should find the convent twopittances during infirmary time and two pints {63} of wine, and twosuppers, one of chicken and salt meat, with white chestnuts,inasmuch as there is only to be just so much chicken as issufficient. Item, he is to keep the church clean. Item, he has topay to the keeper of the church one measure of barley, and eighteengroats for his clothes yearly, and every Martinmas he is to pay tothe cantor sixty soldi, and he shall place a {64} . . . or boss{65} in the choir during Lent. Also he must do one O in Advent andtake charge of all the ornaments of the altars and all the relics.Also on high days and when there is a procession he is to keep thepaschal candle before the altar, as is customary, but on other dayshe shall keep a burning lamp only, and when the candle is burningthe lamp may be extinguished.

* * *

"As touching the office of infirmarer, the infirmarer is to keepthe whole convent fifteen days during infirmary time, to wit, theone-half of them for fifteen days and the other half for anotherfifteen days, except that on the first and last days all the monkswill be in the infirmary. Also when he makes a pittance he is togive the monks beef and mutton, {66} sufficient in quantity andquality, and to receive their portions. The prior of the cloister,cantor, and cellarer may be in the infirmary the whole month. Andthe infirmarer is to keep a servant, who shall go and buy meatthree times a week, to wit, on Saturdays, Mondays, and Wednesdays,but at the expense of the sender, and the said servant shall on thedays following prepare the meat at the expense of the infirmarer;and he shall salt it and make seasoning as is customary, to wit, onall high days and days when there is a processional duplex feast,and on other days. On the feast of St. Michael he shall serve outa seasoning made of sage and onions; but the said servant shall notbe bound to go and buy meat during Advent, and on Septuagesima andQuinquagesima Sundays he shall serve out seasoning. Also when theinfirmarer serves out fresh meat, he is to provide fine salt. Alsothe said servant is to go and fetch medicine once or oftener whennecessary, at the expense of the sick person, and to visit him. Ifthe sick person requires it, he can have aid in the payment of hisdoctor, and the lord abbot is to pay for the doctor and medicinesof all cloistered persons.

"On the principal octaves the monks are to have seasoning, butduring the main feasts they are to have seasoning upon the firstday only. The infirmarer is not bound to do anything or serve outanything on days when no flesh is eaten. The cellarer is to dothis, and during the times of the said infirmaries, the servants ofthe monastery and convent are to be, as above, on the same footingas those who are in religion, that is to say, half of them are tobe bled during one fifteen days, and the other half during theother fifteen days, as is customary.

"Item, touching the office of cellarer, it is ordered that thecellarer do serve out to the whole convent bread, wine, oil, andsalt; as much of these two last as any one may require reasonably,and this on all days excepting when the infirmarer serves outkitchen meats, but even then the cellarer is to serve his rationsto the hebdomadary. Item, he is to make a pittance of dumplingswith seasoning to the convent on the first of the rogation days;each monk and each servant is to have five dumplings uncooked withhis seasoning, and one cooked with [oil?] and a quart of bread andwine, and each monk is to have one quarter of a pound of cheese.Item, upon Holy Thursday he is to give to the convent a pittance ofleeks and fish to the value of sixty soldi, and . . . {67} Item,another pittance upon the first day of August; and he is to presentthe convent with a good sheep and cabbages with seasoning. Item,in infirmary time he is to provide two pittances, one of fowls andthe other of salt meat and white chestnuts, and he is to give twopints of wine. Item, in each week he is to give one flagon [?].{68} Item, the cellarer is to provide napkins and plates at mealtimes in the refectory, and he is to find the bread for makingseasoning, and the vinegar for the mustard; and he is to do an O inAdvent, and in Lent he is to provide white chestnuts, and cicerateall the year. From the feast of St. Luke to the octave of St.Martin he is to provide fresh chestnuts, to wit, on feasts oftwelve lessons; and on dumpling days he is to find the oil andflour with which to make the dumplings.

"Item, as to the office of surveyor, it is ordered that thesurveyor do pay the master builder and also the wages of the daylabourers; the lord abbot is to find all the materials requisitefor this purpose. Item, the surveyor is to make good any plank orpost or nail, and he is to repair any hole in the roofs which canbe repaired easily, and any beam or piece of boarding. Touchingthe aforesaid materials it is to be understood that the lord abbotfurnish beams, boards, rafters, scantling, tiles, and anything ofthis description; {69} the said surveyor is also to renew the roofof the cloister, chapter, refectory, dormitory, and portico; andthe said surveyor is to do an O in Advent.

"Item, concerning the office of porter. The porter is to be incharge of the gate night and day, and if he go outside the convent,he must find a sufficient and trustworthy substitute; on everyfeast day he is {70} . . . to lose none of his provender; and toreceive his clothing in spring as though he were a junior monk; andif he is in holy orders, he is to receive clothing money; and tohave his pro rata portions in all distributions. Item, the saidporter shall enjoy the income derived from S. Michael of Canavesio;and when a monk is received into the monastery, he shall pay to thesaid porter five good sous; and the said porter shall shut thegates of the convent at sunset, and open them at sunrise."

The rest of the document is little more than a resume of what hasbeen given, and common form to the effect that nothing in theforegoing is to override any orders made by the Holy Apostolic Seewhich may be preserved in the monastery, and that the rights of theHoly See are to be preserved in all respects intact. If doubtsarise concerning the interpretation of any clause they are to besettled by the abbot and two of the senior monks.

Footnotes:

{1} Vol. iii. p. 300.

{2} "I know that my Redeemer liveth."--"Messiah."

{3} Suites de Pieces, set i., prelude to No. 8.

{4} Dettingen Te Deum.

{5} In the index that Butler prepared in view of a possible secondedition of Alps and Sanctuaries occurs the following entry underthe heading "Waitee": "All wrong; 'waitee' is 'ohe, ti.'" He wassubsequently compelled to abandon this eminently plausibleetymology, for his friend the Avvocato Negri of Casale-Monferratotold him that the mysterious "waitee" is actually a word in theTicinese dialect, and, if it were written, would appear as"vuaitee." It means "stop" or "look here," and is used to attractattention. Butler used to couple this little mistake of his withanother that he made in The Authoress of the Odyssey, when he said,"Scheria means Jutland--a piece of land jutting out into the sea."Jutland, on the contrary, means the land of the Jutes, and has nomore to do with jutting than "waitee" has to do with waiting.--R.A. S.

{29} I cannot give this cry in musical notation more nearly thanas follows:- [At this point in the book a music score is given]

{30} "Such as ye are, we once were, and such as we are, ye shallbe."

{31} Lugano, 1838.

{32} Butler always regretted that he did not find out about MedeaColleone's passero solitario in time to introduce it into Alps andSanctuaries. Medea was the daughter of Bartolomeo Colleone, thefamous condottiere, whose statue adorns the Campo SS. Giovanni ePaolo at Venice. Like Catullus's Lesbia, whose immortal passerButler felt sure was also a passero solitario, she had themisfortune to lose her pet. Its little body can still be seen inthe Capella Colleone, up in the old town at Bergamo, lying on alittle cushion on the top of a little column, and behind it therestands a little weeping willow tree whose leaves, cut out in greenpaper, droop over the corpse. In front of the column is theinscription,--"Passer Medeae Colleonis," and the whole is coveredby a glass shade about eight inches high. Mr. Festing Jones haskindly allowed me to borrow this note from his "Diary of a Tourthrough North Italy to Sicily."--R. A. S.

{35} "Item, ordinaverunt quod fiant mandata seu ellemosinaeconsuetae quae sint valloris quatuor prebendarum religiosorum omnidie ut moris est." (Claretta, Storia diplomatica, p. 325.) Themandatum generally refers to "the washing of one another's feet,"according to the mandate of Christ during the last supper. In theBenedictine order, however, with which we are now concerned, alms,in lieu of the actual washing of feet, are alone intended by theword.

{36} The prior-claustralis, as distinguished from the prior-major,was the working head of a monastery, and was supposed never, orhardly ever, to leave the precincts. He was the vicar-major of theprior-major. The prior-major was vice-abbot when the abbot wasabsent, but he could not exercise the full functions of an abbot.The abbot, prior-major, and prior-claustralis may be comparedloosely to the master, vice-master, and senior tutor of a largecollege.

{37} "Item, quod dominus abbas teneatur dare quatuor pitancias seucenas conventui tempore infirmariae, et quatuor sextaria vini utconsuetum est" (Claretta, Storia diplomatica, p. 326). The"infirmariae generales" were stated times during which the monkswere to let blood--"Stata nimirum tempora quibus sanguis monachisminuebatur, seu vena secabatur." (Ducange.) There were five"minutiones generales" in each year--namely, in September, Advent,before Lent, after Easter, and after Pentecost. The letting ofblood was to last three days; after the third day the patients wereto return to matins again, and on the fourth they were to receiveabsolution. Bleeding was strictly forbidden at any other thanthese stated times, unless for grave illness. During the time ofblood-letting the monks stayed in the infirmary, and were providedwith supper by the abbot. During the actual operation the brethrensat all together after orderly fashion in a single room, amidsilence and singing of psalms.

{39} The two fingers are the barber's, who lets one finger, ortwo, or three, intervene between the scissors and the head of theperson whose hair he is cutting, according to the length of hair hewishes to remain.

{40} "Cellelarius teneatur ministrare panem et vinum etpittanciarius pittanciam" (Claretta, Stor. dip., p. 327).Pittancia is believed to be a corruption of "pietantia.""Pietantiae modus et ordo sic conscripti . . . observentur. Inprimis videlicet, quod pietantiarius qui pro tempore fuerit omnianno singulis festivitatibus infra scriptis duo ova in brodiopipere et croco bene condito omnibus et singulis fratribus . . .tenebitur ministrare." (Decretum pro Monasterio Dobirluc., A.D.1374, apud Ducange.) A "pittance" ordinarily was served to twopersons in a single dish, but there need not be a dish necessarily,for a piece of raw cheese or four eggs would be a pittance. Thepittancer was the official whose business it was to serve out theirpittances to each of the monks. Practically he was the maitred'hotel of the establishment.

{41} Here the text seems to be corrupt.

{42} That is to say, he is to serve out rations of bread and wineto everyone.

{43} "Tres denarios."

{44} "Unam carbonatam porci." I suppose I have translated thiscorrectly; I cannot find that there is any substance known as"carbonate of pork."

{45} "Rapiolla" I presume to be a translation of "raviolo," or"raviuolo," which, as served at San Pietro at the present day, is asmall dumpling containing minced meat and herbs, and either boiledor baked according to preference.

{46} "Luiroletos." This word is not to be found in anydictionary: litre (?).

{47} "Caulos cabutos cum salsa" (choux cabotes?)

{48} "Sextaria."

{49} "Grossos."

{50} "Operarius, i.e. Dignitas in Collegiis Canonicorum etMonasteriis, cui operibus publicis vacare incumbit . . . Latiusinterdum patebant operarii munera siquidem ad ipsum spectabatlibrorum et ornamentorum provincia." (Ducange.) "Let one priestand two laymen be elected in every year, who shall be calledoperarii of the said Church of St. Lawrence, and shall have thecare of the whole fabric of the church itself . . . but it shallalso pertain to them to receive all the moneys belonging to thesaid church, and to be at the charge of all necessary repairs,whether of the building itself or of the ornaments." (StatutaEccl. S. Laur. Rom. apud Ducange.)

{51} O. The seven antiphons which were sung in Advent were calledO's. (Ducange.)

{52} "Pro prioratu majori." I have been unable to understand whatis here intended.

{53} "Carmingier."

{54} "Primmentum vel salsam."

{55} "Biroleti." I have not been able to find the words"carmingier," "primmentum," and "biroletus" in any dictionary."Biroletus" is probably the same as "luiroletus" which we have metwith above, and the word is misprinted in one or both cases.

{56} "Item, priori claustrali pro sua dupla sex florinos.""Dupla" has the meaning "mulcta" assigned to it in Ducange amongothers, none of which seem appropriate here. The translation asabove, however, is not satisfactory.

{57} "Pastamderio." I have been unable to find this word in anydictionary. The text in this part is evidently full of misprintsand corruptions.

{58} "Ciceratam fractam." This word is not given in anydictionary. Cicer is a small kind of pea, so cicerata fracta mayperhaps mean something like pease pudding.